


Semper Ad Meliora

by bug_from_space



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Child Neglect, Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Janet Drake is Jannat al Ghul, Lazarus Pit, Parent-Child Relationship, Tim Drake-centric, Tim is Ra's' grandson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 23:24:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bug_from_space/pseuds/bug_from_space
Summary: 'Always towards better things.'Tim Drake spends a lifetime running towards the sunset that he's never fast enough to reach, and then he does. (It's always darker on the other side).





	1. Veni : I came

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So I go this idea while back, but never bothered to write it. But what can I say, I liked the idea of Janet being Ra's kid, and I have such a soft spot for Tim and Ra's in any capacity.
> 
> For those who want a fc for Jannat, I chose to go for Nur Fettahoğlu, if nayone was curious. She's beautiful, and has some pictures that are distinctly Janet-like. (http://magnificentmahidevran.tumblr.com/post/130596400992/mahidevrans-nur-fettaho%C4%9Flu-for-alem-september)  
> (https://66.media.tumblr.com/77024f369fdf1057c00ef3d6bf5beeeb/tumblr_n9bk8xJhSx1t9qxjmo2_640.jpg)(https://66.media.tumblr.com/f367abe9ec48ed5e33804f6755c40f47/tumblr_n9bk4xFzzP1t9qxjmo1_500.jpg) 
> 
> Here are just a feeew examples.

Tim ducks away from another swipe from one of the ninja, a quick flick of the staff enough to incapacitate them. He sends a glance around the cavernous room, Bruce is battling his own selection, and Dick was a few feet away doing the same. Damian was even farther, and Jason was firing at the ones that approached him. Strangely the ninja seemed to be focusing on the others, Tim noticed as he twisted again, a few more of Ra's guard falling before him. There’s was so many of them, and yet not so many that he can’t notice the others.

And then Tim sees why. The Demons Head himself walking through the unconscious bodies of his assassins. Ra's al Ghul who looked startlingly like his mother. The same aristocratic brow, and slightly pointed features, those same features Tim recognized in his own appearance. The same shade of skin that Tim didn't inherit. Even the movements were similar, but where Ra’s moved with those of a fighter, expecting an attack, however regal the gracefulness, Janet had always been pointed, and regal, not delicate, but her protective stances were always masked. He moved in the same way, he realized suddenly, with a flinch.

**He moved like Ra's al Ghul.**

When Bruce was training him he had remarked on the smooth motions, and how he so easily worked with the staff like it was an extension of himself. None of the other had quite the same effect. Bruce was talented, but he did everything for functionality. There was nothing graceful about a punch to the face. Dick moved like an acrobat, with more flips and spins. Jason had the same ruthless efficiency of Bruce, and Damian had simply never been as graceful as his grandfather, and then he had been trained by Bruce. Tim had always emulated his mother best though, her graceful movements, paired with pointed intention, he had never tired to be like Bruce in the same ways. His built would never have allowed for the same strength driven actions.

It wasn’t possible though. His mother couldn’t be the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul, it was ridiculous. He’d have known, something would have told him. But remembering his mother he could see it. She had rarely spoken about her family, and never by name, except for one reference to her mother. Only once had she spoken about her younger sister, and the trouble they had gotten into as children. She had told him once that she looked like her father, and her sister had always more closely resembled their mother, Melisande. (Damain’s grandmother was Melisande. It had to be a coincidence).

Focusing his gaze back on the man that was slowly approaching them, Tim considered the probability. He wanted it to be untrue, but Janet Drake bore a striking resemblance to Ra’s al Ghul. (He’s always had his father’s colouring, his eyes, his skin, but always his mother’s features). Ra’s looked at Bruce, gaze shifting to Damian after a handful of seconds, half fondness, and half disappointment, and then Tim felt himself under the iron gaze.

Calculating, analytical, just like his, and like Janet, for whom had taught him it. He stared back, a silent battle of wills as Ra’s came ever closer. The Demon’s Head narrowed his eyes slightly, and then moving to look at the group of ninja that lay at Tim’s feet. Not dead, but unconscious. A moment later Bruce speaks and the moment is broken, as Ra’s shifts his focus back to Bruce.

“What do you want Ra’s?”, each word was punctuated with a growl, and Tim almost wants to laugh at the difference between the two of them; Ra’s’ languid, self-assured motions in stark contrast to Bruce’s tensed, angry jerks.

“I cam to see if the rumours were true about my grandson.” He said, and Tim notes as Dick takes a step towards Damian.

“You can’t have him,” Dick says, and Tim watches as Damian takes half a step toward their eldest brother, one of the few moments of vulnerability and fondness he’d ever seen the current Robin exhibit.

Tim almost wants to say that it’s not Damian he’s looking for. But he won’t, he can’t be sure, and it would be so much easier if that’s all Ra’s wanted, if Damian were all he was interested in. If that was everything he could snark and call it an end and they could all go home and pretend the day had never happened. 

“I don’t want him. I want the other one,” and that’s more than enough for everyone to pause, confused. Instead of answering, Ra’s turns to him, one eyebrow raised, as if waiting for Tim to respond. Letting out a breath, Tim breathes in twice, before nodding slightly in recognition. It’s enough to appease Ra’s and he turns, cloak spinning in a graceful arc with him, as he gestures at one of the remaining ninjas, with a few words in Arabic exchanged. Tim isn’t sure if he’s supposed to follow, but he won’t. If Ra’s wants to talk to him, he’ll have to go to Gotham. All it that was, was an acknowledgement.

* * *

It’s two nights later, when Tim is on the 15th DNA sample is eight hours, that he finally stops to think that maybe it was true.

All the tests had come back conclusive.

His DNA against Damian’s, and Talia’s, and the single sample they had from Ra’s.  
All of it pointed to a positive identification.

It was true then, his suspicions were confirmed with blood. It was unbelievable, there was-- it was absurd. Slumping back in the chair, Tim looked back at the computer screen, half hoping that the positive identification would shift into a negative. It didn’t. 

Tim pressed the palms of his hand against his eyes. It was late, and he hadn’t slept in days, not since the fight, he was exhausted, and finally beginning to feel it. He sighed, and pushed his focus back to the screen. He tapped the mouse, shutting down the computer as he stood, feeling heavy all of the sudden, making his way to the stairs of the cave, towards his room.

Stepping into his room, he noticed the envelope sitting innocuous on the bedside table. The rich green paper was high quality, and written on it was only the name Timothy. He knew who it was from. It was obvious. (No one but his mother ever called him Timothy with regularity, and it would be just like Ra’s to do the same). Opening it carefully he saw the small card inside it. The few words on it more than enough for him to know. Onyx Garden, 2:30 am, tomorrow. 

The Onyx Garden was a restaurant that had made its name through its discreteness. It provided a private place to talk, as long as you were willing to pay for it. It was a surprisingly well thought out plan. Secluded enough that whatever they discussed would remain secret, but not something owned by either of them. It was tactful, Tim thought, tucking the small card into his pocket. And the time was convenient, late enough that Bruce, and the others would have finished patrol, and returned back to the manor. Tomorrow then, after patrol.


	2. Vidi : I saw

There was something freeing about swinging over the streets of Gotham. A freedom he could never get at any other point. And now, he though, jumping across to the next building, it seemed more like the march to his execution. Touching down on the roof, he let out a exhale, earlier that night he had left a suit on the roof, and now, he thought going to grab it, it was time.

He changed quickly, the suit feeling slightly less comfortable than the anonymity afforded by the Red Robin costume. Settling the red tie neatly inside the suit jacket, he stopped to observe the city. It was home, for all it’s faults, he knew it. He’d climbed it’s building since he was a child, and for everything else that had twisted in the last few days, this had remained constant. Turning, he made his way from the door in the roof, and down into the restaurant. 

Ra’s wasn’t hard to spot. He radiated a feeling of power, even without the imposing cape. Taking one last breath, Tim approached the table, guards rising, sitting down across from the villain. 

“I was unsure if you come.” Ra’s said, conversationally, as if he were talking about the weather.

“I wasn’t sure if I would, if I’m honest.” Tim responded, tapping his fingers against his leg, trying to come up with ways to broach the topic of Janet, and how Ra’s had learned about him.

“It was Talia who alerted me to your existence. I was sceptical, but after seeing you, I’m far less so.” That was easier than he had expected. Ra’s had done it himself.

“Yeah…” Tim said, processing. He had to be careful. Ra’s was still a villain, and more than anything else, he was smart. He was a master at using information against people, and playing mind games. He’d seen Damian when he first arrived.

“You want to ask about Jannat I presume” Tim nodded, Janet had told him so little about her childhood, probably because of this, Tim thought. It was interesting he thought, that she had changed her name just enough to fit in with the Gotham elite, Jannat to Janet. A few shifts in lettering, and no one had ever thought to question it. No one had dared to.

“What was she like?”He asked, after a few seconds of consideration. 

Ra’s hummed, remembering the young days of his youngest children. “Jannat had always been more like myself than her mother, Talia always took after Melisande. I believe that was why Jannat left. We were too similar, and she disagreed with much of what I did. She loved her sister though. There was a several year gap, and they got into quite a lot of trouble,” the assassin said, and he seems fond. It surprised Tim, but, he supposed, they had been his children, and they had been young once. 

“I remember I left once to oversee one of the other bases, and when I had returned to the girls had managed to cause havoc among the ninja. Jannat had always been brilliant, if headstrong, and Talia followed her.” Tim shifts, observing Ra’s carefully. It was the most honest he thinks he’d ever seen him. “I remember the day she left. Her mother had died a year earlier, and she was nearly twenty, Talia had been thirteen at the time. She had stormed out after an argument, and come to Gotham. I let her go, although I admit, Talia never quite forgave me for letting Jannat leave.”

By the time Ra’s had finished, a waiter had come by and left a plate of food in front of each of them, and Tim grabbed his fork, a token effort if nothing else. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it might be to imagine his mother as a child among the League of Shadows. She had always been just a bit more cutthroat than anyone else. It had made her a good head of a company, just not a good mother. He smiled sadly at the plate, thinking about his mother causing chaos with Damian’s mother, it was almost funny.

“What do you mean, you let her go?” Tim asked, thinking about what he had heard. They had known when she died, but she hadn’t kept her name. Even if the death of Janet Drake, wife of CEO of Drake industries, Jack Drake had been highly publicized, there had been years between her leaving and then.

“She was not the first child I have lost, nor the first to leave. It was not my place to trap her where she wished not to be. I remained aware of her life, and what she did, but it was her choice to try and build a new one.” Finishing, Ra’s also picked up his fork, taking a bite, attention still on his grandson.

“I’m sorry.” Tim said, taking a bite from his own food; it surprised him, but he was certain that even Ra’s al Ghul could love his children. He had lost his daughter long before she had died. Ra’s had watched her grow up, leave, and then she had died. Sympathy didn’t seem unfitting. Setting the fork back down, Tim shot a glance at the clock on the wall, it was early, or far too late at 3:17 a.m. Tim yawned, it had been a long night, and he’d gotten very little sleep in the nights before that.

“You mustn’t be. It was her choice to leave, and for as much as Talia may resent it, we were far too similar for it to ever be a good thing for her to remain. I am proud to see what she accomplished however.”

The teenager nodded. He would have to return soon, it would take a while to get back, and if he was caught there would be more than a few unpleasant question. “I should go,” Tim started, moving to stand. “Thank you, but it's time I get back.”

“Of course, Detective.” Ra’s replied, and Tim turned away, making his way past the tables of other people who were all there for their own reasons, he made his way back to the roof, where he had left the Red Robin gear. Changing quickly, he grabbed suit, shoving it in the bag he had brought, and looping it over his back, as he began the journey back home, thoughts from the dinner swirling around in his head.


	3. Dedici : I learned

Tim woke with his alarm, one hand reaching over to turn the buzzing off, as he stared at the ceiling. Some part of him thought that last night must have been a dream, and then he looked over, the bunched up suit shoved in the corner was proof that it had been real. Flopping back against the pillows, he stared, unseeing. A minute later he kicked off the blankets, and made his way down to the dining room where everyone else was. He gave a halfhearted wave when he sat down, grabbing a piece of toast that Alfred had placed down on the middle of the table. It was easy enough to confuse it for tiredness-- a constant thing in their profession, instead of the distraction it was. 

It was quiet, everyone else seeming absorbed in their own thoughts. Today, he thought, he would go to his mother's grave. It wouldn't yield answers, but then again, had she been alive, he doubted she would have told him had he asked. Finishing the toast, he moved away from the dining room. 

An hour later, Tim stood in front of his mother’s grave, the inscription was simple. ‘Janet Drake, 1977-2015, loving mother and wife’. It simplified her, Tim thought, it took two of her characteristics and made it her memory. (She wasn’t either of those. She may have loved him, but she wasn’t a good mother, and she and Jack had never had a happy marriage. He had simply been a step to success.) She had always been more than a loving mother and wife.

He sat down, staring at it. Part of him was angry she had never told him, and then another part of him understood; she left and had managed to make a new life. He couldn’t blame her for it, even if he wanted to. He sighed, shifting to sit cross-legged. He wasn’t sure what to do. Gotham was home, and he had been adopted into a family that loved him, but at the same time he was so curious. (Curiosity had always been his fatal flaw. Could he ever be satisfied if he stayed here?) Broken out of his reverie by an approach, he looked up to see Ra’s. he was holding a small bouquet of asphodels, geraniums, and one his mother had always loved, camellias.

Ra’s set the flowers down gently, and then his attention switched to Tim. “I was unsure if I would see you again before I left,” Ra’s said, gazing down at Tim. “Although I couldn’t leave without at least seeing her grave.” he added. 

“She loved camellias.” Tim said, thinking about the flowers. They weren’t traditional, but they seemed fitting. His mother had never been particularly fond of flowers, but there had been a few she loved. Those were one of them.

“I don’t find it difficult to imagine. Camellia japonica, meaning unpretending excellence. She always was a prideful thing, even when she was a child.” Tim smiled at the meaning, it fit Janet, there had never been any doubt of her success.

“I came to extend an invitation however. If you wished to, you could accompany me back to Nanda Parbat as my heir.” Tim blinked, surprised ta the offer. Heir to the house of Al Ghul, it was unbelievable. He could remember Damian coming in those first few weeks and how he had still hung onto the name of al Ghul, and only then taken Wayne as his name. And here he was, being offered the position. (The idea of taking the name felt almost like it would be a betrayal).

“I can’t. I have responsibilities, and a family. I can’t leave. There are things I still need to do.” He says, and he almost regrets it.

“I understand, just remember that you will always be welcome with the League if you choose.” And just like that, Ra’s turned and left the graveyard. Tim left staring at the empty spot the assassin had been. His thoughts were swimming with the events of the conversation, and the night before.

He had made his decision, and he didn’t regret it, but… at the same time, could he stay here and not desperately want to at least satisfy his curiosity. Sighing, Tim stood up, brushing the dirt off, as he started back towards the manor. It didn’t matter, this had been his choice. (And he would never say what he had nearly done to the others. They wouldn’t understand).


	4. Vici : I conquered

It’s been nearly 7 decades since Tim had denied Ra’s’ offer. He’s an old man now, Tim thinks, gazing out over the city of Gotham. The neon and chrome making the city seem almost as bright as day. Somewhere out there it’s protectors would be soaring over the buildings. Not him any more, and not Bruce either. No, the original vigilantes of Gotham had died many years ago. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Kate, even Damian had eventually run out of time. He was the only one left, and even then, it had always felt borrowed.

Behind him, he noticed Ra’s approaching the the window reflection, the green was a familiar sight, and even the man himself was. Ra’s looked the same as he always had. Not older, but not younger either. Tim could not say the same about himself. He looked far older, black hair that had gone gray decades ago, and skin wrinkled with age.

“You told me once that I would always be welcome with you.”Tim says, not looking away from the streets below.

“I remember,” Ra’s says, stepping beside Tim. “You said you couldn’t leave, there was still far too much to do. You had things you wished to accomplish, a family to think of. Do you still think that’s true?”

Tim considers it for a moment. It wasn’t. It hadn’t been for years, not since the last of the others had died. There were new heroes guarding the streets of his city. And it was time now, for him to leave, just as everyone else had. He hadn’t directly run Wayne Enterprises in nearly fifteen years, and he had laid the cowl to rest forty-years ago. (Robin, and then Red Robin, Red Bat, Batman; all had come and gone).

“No,” Tim says simply. “Does your offer still hold true?” He asks instead of elaborating on the answer. If anyone would understand, he thought it may be his grandfather, who had lived and lived, watching as those he cared about grew and became lost to the ever shifting sands of time.

“Of course. The house of Al Ghul still needs an heir, Detective.”

It’s almost odd to be referred to as Detective, he hadn’t been in years, not since leaving behind the cape and cowl. But for a moment, it reminded him of being young. It reminds him of flying over the streets of his city in the dark of the night, and of the nightly vigil that had been part of him for decades.

“Than perhaps it’s time I take you up on it.”

* * *

The Lazarus pit looked as he remembered. Bubbling and toxic green, the same colour as Ra’s’ eyes. Those eyes that had been coloured by the Lazarus pits after five-hundred years of immortality. His eyes would eventually be the same, if not immediately. His reflection would change, and with it, so would he.

Stepping towards the edge, he casts a long glance at Ra’s. It was a measure of faith to do this, but time had been leading up to this moment. He had been living on borrowed time as long as he could remember, now it was simply time to pay his debts.

The man he emerged would no longer be Tim Drake-Wayne, but instead Timothy Al Ghul, the new Demons Head, son of Jannat al Ghul, and grandson of Ra’s al Ghul. He had put it off for seventy years. But now what he had wanted to do was done, and those who had been family were dead.

A last cautious glance at the waters of the pit, and Tim knew it was time, he took one last breath, hoping that this wouldn’t kill him, and sank below the waters. There was split second of darkness, and then the world went green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there it is! Timothy al Ghul, the new Demon's head. And no, Ra's isn't dead. Just stepping aside as the focal point.


End file.
